


we can't start at the end

by helenecixous



Category: Silent Witness (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Getting Together, Pining, Rare Pairings, Tumblr Prompt, jack's an excited child shipping his bffs together, that's p much it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 15:20:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6860545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helenecixous/pseuds/helenecixous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now's the time to talk about the weather, but they both look up and Jack's in the window, his eyes wide and lips stretched in a grin that looks a bit manic. He points at Nikki, and then at Clarissa, mouthing questions that neither of them can understand. After a few seconds of dramatic miming, he pushes the door open and comes in. “Everything… all right?” he asks, and Nikki doesn't know whether she wants to laugh or cry. She's about to respond when Clarissa does, as cool and calm as ever.<br/>“Everything's fine, Jack. Nikki and I were just arranging to go to the huge lesbian orgy they've got going on down the road. I'd ask you if you'd want to come, but the last time I saw you in a bra it wasn't pretty.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	we can't start at the end

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elainebarrish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elainebarrish/gifts).



> alex sent me 'an absent look or touch' clarissa/nikki prompt on tumblr. so. here you go

It’s one of those days. Nikki wakes up when her alarm sounds, turns it off, groans and rolls over and the next time she opens her eyes she’s got half an hour to shower, eat, and get to work.

It’s too cold to get out of bed and then it’s too hot in the shower and the boiler gives up and there’s a vaguely worrying clunk and then the water runs cold before she’s finished rinsing the shampoo out of her hair. She can’t find her favourite blouse so she throws on an oversized jumper, forgoes breakfast, and leaves. It’s 6:51 in the morning and all she’s done is swear.

The drive to the Lyell is the same as it always is. It’s a little too dark and it’s disturbed only as the cold grey of a winter morning seeps in like fog, finding its place and slotting itself between the artificial orange of the streetlamps and the bleakness of the dark. Nikki’s still half asleep, listening but not really to the forced cheeriness of the presenter who sounds tinny through her speakers, muffled by the road noise and her own yawns. She wants to turn around, to call in sick and crawl back into bed, but by the time she’s convinced herself to do that she’s locking her car and heading up to the centre.

 

Even when she’s late she’s always the first one to arrive. She often wonders whether the others would even turn up if she didn’t. The lights all turn on when she lets herself in, she dumps her stuff on her chair and starts opening blinds and windows before she heads to Leo’s office and leaves some files on his desk, and then she goes to the kitchen area and rummages around in the cupboards, and emerges a few minutes later with a mug that’s more like a bucket of coffee and one of those shitty breakfast bars that are supposed to make you feel good about life.

“One of those days?” Jack asks, nodding at the mug in her hands as he throws - literally throws - his bag under the desk. “You look like shit.” He looks amused to see her looking so haggard and irritated, and she looks up at him, gets ready to bite, and then just raises an eyebrow.

“You’d think with all the time you spend fighting that one day you’d actually win,” she says, and he raises his hands and nods.

“Check mate,” he says, pulling his chair towards him and sitting down. “What’s your excuse?”

“Just one of those days.”

He smiles, nods again -  _ fair enough -  _ doesn’t ask any more questions, and for a while the only things that are preventing silence from falling is the sound of the sudden rain against the windows and the tapping of their keyboards.

 

“You two are early!” Leo sounds as chipper as always as he passes them, and they both shake their heads.

“You’re just late,” Nikki points out, draining her mug and putting it down, and she smiles when Leo grins and waves a hand dismissively.

“Ah, semantics,” he says, grinning across at her. “It’s only because I have such a reliable team that I’m able to slack off.”

Jack snorts and says something in retaliation but Nikki’s not listening. She’s tired and she’s staring absently at the dregs of coffee left in her mug and contemplating a refill when the doors open.

“See - I’m never the latest!” Leo sounds triumphant, and Clarissa just rolls her eyes as she approaches them all, and Nikki straightens up in her seat.

Jack shakes his head, leans back and says something about leaving the best for the last, and Nikki can feel him looking at her. She risks a glance up and meets his eyes, and she feels a faint blush spread over her cheeks from behind her ears. His arms are crossed and he’s staring right at her, a cocky smirk on his lips and amusement written clear over his face. She doesn’t look away, doesn’t want to look guilty, so she tilts her head -  _ what’s so funny? -  _ and he glances at Clarissa and then back to Nikki and his smirk widens, and she tries to school her features, tries to look like he’s being absolutely mad, and he just raises his eyebrows and looks away. It’s all Nikki can do to hope that Clarissa hadn’t noticed their silent exchange, and that Jack doesn’t catch on to the fact that her smile is easier and wider and more genuine now.

 

Of course, the moment Clarissa’s out of earshot and Leo’s shut away in his office, Jack’s up and sitting on the edge of Nikki’s desk, looking like Christmas has come early.

“Oh my  _ God,”  _ he stage whispers, his eyes wide. “You’ve got a thing for  _ Clarissa?” _

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Nikki mutters, but she can’t make herself look as stern as she’d like, can’t get rid of the small smile that appears every time Clarissa’s near or mentioned or her thoughts stray that way.

“You have, haven’t you?!” Jack asks, leaning back to watch Clarissa through the windows. “Oh my God.”

“Jack!”

“Do you wanna  _ be  _ any more obvious?” he asks, returning his gaze to Nikki. “Oh my God. You may as well have stood up and declared your undying love for her as soon as she came in. I’ve never seen anyone’s demeanor  _ shift  _ so  _ completely _ so quickly! This explains so much.”

“Oh shut up,” Nikki says, but she’s smiling, grinning, really. She’s gone pink and she can’t make eye contact with him anymore.

“You should ask her out.”

“What?! No!”

“No no, you should!”

“Jack!”

“Nikki!” He looks absolutely delighted, and Nikki rolls her eyes.

“I’m not asking her out.”

“Why not? Don’t tell me you’re plannin’ on sitting here like a lovesick puppy and  _ admire from afar.” _

“That’s exactly what I’m planning on doing.” She sounds stubborn enough that Jack sighs and stands up, although he still looks as though this is the best news he’s had all year. He returns to his work and she to hers, he sneaks glances at her while she sneaks glances at Clarissa, and he laughs to himself. It explains  _ so  _ much.

 

Nikki’s pouring what feels like her thousandth cup of coffee when Jack sidles up behind her.

“You do know she’s gay, don’t you?”

“Honestly, Jack, how old are we? Seven?”

“Eight, actually,” he retorts, leaning back against the counter and watching her stir her drink. “I just don’t understand what’s stoppin’ you.”

“I really don’t need a matchmaker, Jack.”

He tuts and pushes himself off the counter, goes to leave, only stops when she calls him back.

Nikki steps close to him and smiles. “If you say anything to her,” she says softly, her hand on his arm. “You’ll be the next body that’s in that fridge, okay?” Her tone is laced with amusement, and he laughs out loud, gives her a wink and nods.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says. “Wouldn’t even  _ dream  _ of it.”

He leaves, and Nikki looks over to where Clarissa’s on her laptop and smiles to herself. She turns and pours another cup of coffee, adds milk and sugar and stirs it carefully before she takes it over to the woman and sets it down with a smile.

“Thanks, Nikki,” Clarissa says, looking up at her and smiling. “You read my mind.”

Nikki sits down next to her and cradles her own mug in her lap. She’s about to say something that means nothing, probably about how the weather's really miserable, just for the sake of conversation when Clarissa turns to face her.

“You look tired,” she comments, peering at her closely. “One of those days?”

“One of those days,” Nikki confirms, a small smile on her lips.

Clarissa smiles. “Thought as much,” she says, taking a sip of coffee. Nikki looks down at the desk, looks at how close their hands are, is about to look away or move her hand into her lap when Clarissa’s fingers are suddenly tight around hers.

“We should go out tonight,” Clarissa says. “Girls’ night out, or whatever it’s called these days.”

Nikki's brain short circuits. Her first thought is Jack, and the following seven are ways in which she'd really like to murder him, and then she thinks that she's been with Jack all day, there's been no time for him to have said anything. She's looking blankly down at their hands, and without even meaning to she's turning her hand over so that her fingers can close around Clarissa's. “That'd be lovely,” she manages, and she feels like her throat is a pinhole and her heart might burst from her chest and she knows that her cheeks are the colour of hell. 

Clarissa lets go of her hand and smiles, picks up her coffee and sips it. 

Now's the time to talk about the weather, but they both look up and Jack's in the window, his eyes wide and lips stretched in a grin that looks a bit manic. He points at Nikki, and then at Clarissa, mouthing questions that neither of them can understand. After a few seconds of dramatic miming, he pushes the door open and comes in. “Everything… all right?” he asks, and Nikki doesn't know whether she wants to laugh or cry. She's about to respond when Clarissa does, as cool and calm as ever.

“Everything's fine, Jack. Nikki and I were just arranging to go to the huge lesbian orgy they've got going on down the road. I'd ask you if you'd want to come, but the last time I saw you in a bra it wasn't pretty.”

Nikki laughs and Jack scowls at Clarissa, pointing at her. “Remember when I told you that you rub people up the wrong way?” he asks. “Watch it.”

“It's  _ all  _ part of my charm,” Clarissa says breezily, looking over at Nikki, who makes to stand up.

“I'm going to get back to work,” she says, gesturing to the door. “Leo’s going to have my head otherwise.”

Clarissa nods, “hear that, Jack? Some of us have work to do,” and for a second her hand rests just above Nikki's knee under the desk and squeezes gently. “See you later then, Nikki.” She lets go and her face is completely impassive. Nikki stands up and leaves, her mind spinning off into some sort of gay overdrive. Way too much has happened. 

 

She might as well have just gone home after that. She was as good as useless - unable to think of anything other than Clarissa’s hand on her leg. She’s flustered and she doesn’t know what to expect from the evening coming, and it makes her nervous, because she’s never been good at not knowing.

 

Leo sends Jack off to a flat where someone had died a week ago, and Jack takes his stuff so they presume he’ll just go straight home when he’s done. After that, Leo leaves, lingering only to tell Nikki not to stay too late, and then he’s gone too. Nikki knows that Clarissa’s still in the next room, but she keeps working like she thinks that if she just doesn’t stop working then there’ll be no time for them to go out. Just the idea of being alone with Clarissa is enough to make her cheeks heat up and her stomach twist, and she’s at least able to attempt to focus on work and that makes her feel less like a lovestruck teenager. The only sounds in the building are the steady hum of the computer fans, the rain that’s lashing against the windows, and the tapping of the two keyboards. Nikki wonders briefly whether Clarissa’s as nervous as she is.

 

“Nikki?” Clarissa asks, announcing herself as she comes through and stops next to her. “I’ve been looking at these prints and there aren’t any matches. It’s conclusive - we don’t have our gunner on record. And if we do, he’s damn good at covering tracks.” She’s grimacing, looking slightly bad as she always does when she has to be the bearer of bad news.

Nikki sighs, leaning back in her chair and staring up at the ceiling. She stays silent, and so does Clarissa, and they sit like that until the lights flicker off.

Laughing, Nikki screws up a piece of paper and throws it across the room, and then the lights are back. “I hate motion sensors,” she mutters.

“Oh, you hate them?” Clarissa asks, gesturing to her wheelchair. “Try them when you’re like this.”

They both laugh, and then Nikki realises how close they’re sitting, and it’s a sobering realisation. She looks at Clarissa, and Clarissa’s already watching her.

“You know, Jack isn’t always wrong,” she says. “I know it’s difficult to believe, but sometimes he knows what he’s on about.”

Nikki stays quiet, waiting for the explanation.

“He’s got a good eye when he cares about people. Knows what’s good for people.”

Nikki’s fairly sure her heart is going to give in.

“I like you, Nikki.” Of course, she says it like it’s the simplest thing in the world, because Clarissa has never danced around anything in her life, and she isn’t about to start now.

Nikki’s breath catches and she isn’t sure if she heard it right, or if she’s taking it right, or if she’s dreaming. Clarissa’s watching her, without even a shred of doubt or worry clouding her features.

“You like me?” the blonde eventually manages, looking away for a second before she forces herself to meet Clarissa’s gaze again. “I mean, I- I like you too.”

Clarissa smiles, and she looks like they’ve made a particularly good business deal. “How convenient,” she says, raising one of her eyebrows. “That works out quite well, actually.”

Nikki laughs. She feels a bit lightheaded. “It does, doesn’t it?”

“It’s only taken you, what, seven months to admit that?”

“Can you blame me?” Nikki asks, her grin so wide her cheeks are starting to ache. “With Jack, and Leo, and th-” She interrupts herself, stumbles and trips over her words as her brain stutters into silence. Clarissa’s hand is on her knee again, and she looks really amused.

“Can I kiss you?” Clarissa asks, and her directness really is quite refreshing.

Nikki swallows and nods, and this is ridiculous, she thinks. She’s never this disarmed by any of the men she sees, but Clarissa’s intelligent and confident and gorgeous and she knows exactly what she wants from life and she knows how to get it and  _ fuck  _ she’s leant forward and they’re kissing each other.

It could have lasted three seconds or three hours but then they’re parting and Nikki has the strangest feeling that everything that’s happened to get her to the Lyell, and everything that’s happened to get Clarissa and Jack here has somehow been planned by some deity that she doesn’t believe in.

Clarissa’s smiling, and she leans forward again and presses a kiss to the corner of Nikki’s mouth, reaching out with her other hand and closing the laptop. “Come on…” she says. “It’s tequila night tonight, and we don’t get paid overtime.”


End file.
